


He's A Certified Mind-Blower

by imbouncingoffthewalls



Category: The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, Drunken confessions of love, M/M, Slow Dancing, Underage Drinking, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 20:32:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1524590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imbouncingoffthewalls/pseuds/imbouncingoffthewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Norman Osborn was dead, to begin with. He was dead, so why was the new king of Oscorp throwing a party?<br/>Well, you can just consider it a sort of goodbye to the old and hello to the new. Everyone in New York (or at least, everybody who was anybody) was there.  More important than that, Peter was there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He's A Certified Mind-Blower

Norman Osborn was dead, to begin with. He was dead, so why was the new king of Oscorp throwing a party?  
Well, you can just consider it a sort of goodbye to the old and hello to the new. Everyone in New York (or at least, everybody who was anybody) was there. More important than that, Peter was there.

At least, Harry was fairly certain that Peter was there. He had been hunting for the familiar tree of a teen for the better part of the night, with the worse part spent drinking hard liquor straight from the bottle. All in all, a winning way to spend the first week anniversary of the death of one's father. The search for Peter, paired with the quest to drink all the alcohol he could without passing out, lasted for quite some time before he saw him; all legs and hair and eyes that could just make a boy melt. Or a girl-- _Gwendolyn, the bitch--_ if one wanted to be technical. Gwendolyn wasn't there. She wasn't holding Peter's hand, wasn't hanging off of his arm, wasn't fogging Harry's mind with her very unwelcome presence. It was a clear shot to Peter. A shot Harry would certainly take.

Naturally, Peter was the center of a small group's conversation. Hands waving about excitedly with eyes that looked brighter than anything Harry had ever seen on a human being, it was clear that Peter was discussing something that perhaps he only understood. Topics that only Peter understood when in the middle of a crowd of beings of average intellect always seemed to be the topics that made him the most excited. Not that he noticed, of course. Harry noticed everything Peter Parker did.

Grabbing an unopened beer out of the hands of some party-goer, Harry found himself standing right in front of his best friend. Emphasis, of course, on  _his._

"Peter!" The unbothered attitude that Harry normally surrounded himself in was lost in his drunken state. Oh, how lovely. At least it was only Peter, and a few people Harry didn't exactly know. Not like Peter would begrudge him for being a little loose. Not like Harry would care about what a few idiots thought. 

Peter smiled the sort of smile he was wont to use when he didn't know how to best react to a situation. Of course, the two had been around each other since Norman's departure, but it was still unclear if Peter should give a pity smile or a smile fit for a proper party. The resulting look was one that did  _things_ to Harry. God, how he wanted. He would have. 

"Hey, man. How're you feelin'?" Peter asked, voice filled with the same blend of joy and sympathy that his face projected. A gentle hand reached out to rub Harry's arm, the one with the near-empty bottle of vodka, and Harry laughed. God, how was he feeling? Drunk, for one. Drunk, and not drunk enough. He felt desperate for Peter. He felt conflicted, to use a blanket term. After all, blanket terms worked best for avoiding one's true emotions.

"I'm fine, Peter, I'm  _fine!_ I brought you this!" A hand shoved the cold beer into Peter's hand, pulling a concerned sort of chuckle from the boy's lips.

"Harry, I'm nineteen. I don't drink." Ever the good boy, Peter. Harry blamed it on his fathers. When one of your parents happened to be Captain America, Harry often mused, one didn't have much of a chance to be a bad boy. Harry didn't mind it. He would misbehave enough for the both of them.

"Oh,  _Petey._ When are you going to just let loose? You need to." Harry used the smooth voice he used when coercing fake blondes with fake breasts to join him in his bed. It made Peter blush. Harry liked that.

"- _Harry,_ what? Maybe you should, ah, slow down on the drinks-"  _  
_

That was when it happened. That was when Harry decided to simply go for it; Norman wasn't around to stop him anymore. Without thinking about it, Harry leaped onto a clear table, drink still in hand. Eyes locked on a very confused Peter Parker, Harry began,  
  
"Peter  _Parker!_ Peter Parker. Oscorp has been  _watching you,_ and so have I! I'm so  _sick_ of that Gwendolyn girl you insist on spending your time with. Don't you  _get it?_ I've been waiting for you to realize that I'm the one you belong with for  _years!_ I get shipped off to boarding school and maybe I fucked a lot of guys that looked like you, but I  _waited!_ You never got it, and you're still not getting it, so here I am, confessing-no,  _professing_ my love for you. Peter Parker, I  _love_ you. I love you and I want you and I want you to want me and I want- some more alcohol. Peter, come here." Harry hopped down, reaching for Peter's arm. Pulling the boy in, he pressed his lips to Peter's just as he stole the still unopened bottle of beer in his hands. 

Harry thought he needed alcohol, but maybe he just needed Peter. The kiss made his mind feel a little more sober, and he set the beer down without thinking about it. He broke the kiss, swaying just slightly as he stared straight into Peter's eyes. He pulled Peter with him to a more secluded area, the music going from a hard beat to a slower song that could almost be fit for a slow dance. Pinning Peter up against the wall, he wrapped his arms around the taller boy. Peter only spoke up halfway through their strange slow dance, with arms wrapped around Harry's neck. 

"Are you serious about all of this?" he asked, voice murmured into Harry's neck. How he managed to duck his head that far down, Harry didn't know. Things had moved so quickly...

"Very. I apologize for that... display." He was still drunk, but he didn't quite feel it at all anymore. Damn Peter Parker.

"...me and Gwen haven't been together for about six months now."

Harry couldn't help the resulting grin.

"You'll be mine, then?" he asked, voice full of the Osborn swagger that Peter often loved and sometimes  _hated._

"-we'll see," Peter teased, a light laugh escaping his lips. 

Much better. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Arctic Monkey's No. 1 Party Anthem. A lot. But, I don't think it's actually a songfic? What even is a songfic?


End file.
